


Like Rain

by Talullah



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-14 04:20:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2177658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talullah/pseuds/Talullah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A chance meeting on a rainy afternoon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to jaiden_s for the beta. All remaining mistakes are mine.
> 
> Written for a challenge at originalficfest, consisting of the following picture:
> 
>  [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/132238694@N03/24402870898/in/dateposted-public/)
> 
> [Disclaimer/Blanket Statement](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Talullah/profile)

It was one of those low-ceiling, white-walled galleries with lighting that made one think of fridges or hospitals. Despite the bleakness of the surroundings, the art was wonderful, not at all the kitsch, common-place, warm, spicy modern Indian art, but rather a balanced collection of thought-provoking, elegant paintings, a far cry from what Lillian had expected to find in such a low-end place. She had circled through the two contiguous rooms in an casual 'eight' and now revisited her favourite pieces in languorous circles, considering if she should buy a couple of prints on her way out. Lately, the greyish tones of her office had turned from stylish into downright depressing and a change wouldn't do any harm. She went back to no. 56, a nice portrayal of an embrace in dark prune shades that wouldn't ruin the colour scheme of her office and would still bring the human warmth it lacked.

From the corner of her eye, she saw a man standing near her, looking intently at the painting to her right, a work she hadn't enjoyed all that much. The gallery was half-empty and something in the man's posture suggested he was interested in some form of interaction with her. It could be anything from a show-off who thought his basic comments on art were truly impressive, to an honest-to-god request for help, for some time-telling or the like. It was not very likely that he was an equal, one of those rare creatures who knows the value of a nice, clean direct approach to a one-night-stand. Lillian pointedly ignored him for a few minutes more, knowing perfectly well how to raise the stakes. Her attention was turned from the watercolour itself to her reflection on the glass stands. Everything looked well. At twenty-eight, she looked not a day older than twenty-four, her trim figure and long, wildish hair helped by the casual sophistication of her wardrobe. Raising an amused eyebrow at herself, she turned and faced the man. To say she was shocked would have been an understatement, but Lillian was blasé if she was anything.

"Well, well, if it isn't Mr. Swindon..." She smiled, pleased: the greeting had been nicely delivered, a hint of taunting humour mingled with congenial, generous satisfaction of meeting an old acquaintance.

Robert Swindon nodded with old-fashioned politesse and smiled. "Miss Crane."

His formal tone clashed with his casual attire of faded jeans, a shabby pullover and muddy mountain boots. Lillian studied him, a deliberately ambiguous smile dancing on her lips, and felt suddenly inclined to a bit of harmless cruelty. "I see that time has not been kind to you," she said, even as she took in the lines around his eyes and lips and found them sexy.

"I suppose you have been luckier than me," he graciously conceded. "You look stunning."

Lillian smiled, amused. She did look good, better than pretty, better than well-groomed. She looked sophisticated, elegant, carefree... a woman at her prime.

"Thank you," she drawled, preparing the next barb. She could go on forever taunting the poor man, but her treacherous tongue decided itself for more cordial paths. "What an extraordinary coincidence," she said. "Are you still living in town?"

Robert shook his head. "No, I'm visiting a friend and collecting some samples. Since it's raining and my friend is working, I thought I'd take a look around. What about you? I thought you were in London..."

"Yes, I am living there. I'm here visiting the parents."

"Ah, of course." Robert looked at his muddy shoes as if expecting they would give him some clue to continue the conversation as the pause dragged on.

"Well," they both started. Awkward laughter followed.

"You go ahead," he said, but Lillian insisted, "No, you."

"Would you like to go for a drink? There's a decent looking place nearby..."

Lillian was about to refuse but got hold of her tongue. Really, she could buy the prints, go home to a cup of tea and her mother's cats and be generally bored as she had been for the last four days. Or she could give in to that burgeoning thrill and take Robert Swindon's offer. It had been a long time, but he was still an interesting man in all senses. She elegantly shrugged and conceded, "Why not?"

"Very well, then." He turned to the exit, casting an inviting glance in her direction, and for a second she was sure he was about to offer her his arm. He didn't, though, leaving her vaguely disappointed. As they crossed the entrance hall she looked at the prints but continued walking. Robert stopped by the door.

"I'm sorry. Did you want anything? There's no rush, really."

Lillian felt slightly annoyed. His attentiveness made a dent in her armour of snark. "No, nothing," she said, passing him by as she internally cursed herself. She realised her decision of not stopping was somehow linked to a need to impress him that was both wrong in intent and execution. She stopped under the portico, looking at the rain. Nonsense, it was all bloody, silly nonsense. Robert Swindon was just a man like any other, and she was not an adolescent anymore. She looked to her side, where he stood.

"So where is this place?"

"Just around the corner - a students' pub, but it will be nearly empty this time of day. Fancy a run?" Both had left their umbrellas home.

Lillian nodded and started running through the deluge with her coat over her head. Robert ran by her side, and as they turned the corner he put his arm around her, pulling her into a door she hadn't notice. The physical contact was too brief, though the whiff of desire that passed between them amused her and disturbed her in equal parts.

"Oh," she said, looking around as they entered the pub, after a second, shorter run. "This is crap." She laughed. "I used to come here when I was in school."

He followed her and dropped to a chair by her side. "Ah well, I'm easily impressed. What can I get you?"

"Cider is fine."

Robert quickly returned holding two pints and settled in the bench by her side. She could see his face, but after the first sip in his lager, he absently stared out the window.

"Collecting samples, you said?" she asked in conversational tone.

"Yup," he replied returning his attention to her. "I'm afraid I've left teaching. I have been working in research for a while now."

"Why did you leave teaching? You used to tell us that you could not imagine yourself in any other job."

Robert quietly lowered his lager to the table, looking at her with an expression of bafflement on his face. "Lillian, schools don't give jobs to teachers who have affairs with students."

Lillian had to make an effort to swallow the cider in her mouth. "Oh? Did you have one?"

Robert frowned. "Are you playing some sort of game?"

"No." Lillian could not hold his stare. "Is there something I should know?" she asked, hating how her voice lost confidence.

"Apparently," he coldly replied. "I haven't taught since 1996. That was the year you were in my class, if you remember it."

The glass was starting to sweat in Lillian's hand, but she could not make herself place it on the table. Staring intently at her drink, she replied, "I know that there was some talking back then but surely it wasn't because of..."

Robert remained silent. Lillian saw him sipping his lager from the corner of her eye and decided it was time to start acting like herself, her adult self. "Listen, true, I had a crush on you and was a bit of a Lolita, but we both know nothing ever happened. I hope you are not trying to imply that I had anything to do with the changes in your career."

To her surprise, Robert laughed. "Oh no, you don't have to worry - it all turned out well for me. I went to Canada and did a Ph.D. there and after, I worked for a few years here and there. My life would have been undoubtedly more boring if I had stayed here teaching. But yes, my teaching career was over because of you. I was told in no uncertain terms that I would not work in our school again as I would have no references, no good ones, that is. Seeing that it had been my only teaching job to the date, it was virtually impossible to find another under the circumstances."

Lillian sat back discomfited. "Well, all that fuss..." She wavered towards a little guilt but her edgy composure was too long a habit to break. "So you invited me here to tell me this? Should I apologise, is that it?"

"No, and no." Robert grinned. "I wasn't resentful of you, even back then, so no apologies are needed. You were a teen with a crush on a teacher, nothing new under the sun. But you were also an interesting young woman, fairly brilliant, actually, when you wanted to be... I thought it would be interesting to see how you were doing now."

"Well, I'm doing just fine," Lillian answered. When they were leaving the gallery she had thought of impressing him with her glamorous life in London, but now it felt hollow.

"I read your blog now and then," he said as an invitation. "You were always very articulate."

"Thank you." Lillian sipped her cider trying to figure out what she would be saying next - it had been a long time since someone had thrown off her balance like that. "I felt awkward at first but it has numerous advantages over the radio show and no restrictions on contents and approach, unlike my newspaper columns." There, the official lines about blogging that she always delivered in her well-honed, city-smart career woman tone were out, hanging limp between them like wet shirts on a line.

Robert did not seem to notice. He simply nodded thoughtfully.

"Yep, we all have to make concessions now and then."

"So exactly are you working now? And what are you doing?"

"I'm at the Massachusetts Marine Research Institute. I'm working with migratory species, hence sample collecting across the oceans. But I don't want to bore you."

"You're not. But yes, I am definitely identifying a few American inflections in your voice... interesting."

Robert laughed. "I'm sure it's not."

Again they took refuge in silent sipping. Lillian fell slightly humbled by Robert's down-to-earth confidence, a world away from her tough urban chic act.

"So, when are you leaving?" she asked at length, just to fill the silence.

"Next Sunday... why?"

"No reason."

"You?"

"Sunday also."

They sighed.

"Jeez," Robert said. "Two intelligent, interesting people like ourselves and we can't find anything to say. Now, that's a sad thought. Are you going to blog about it?"

Lillian smiled. "Nah. This is actually material for a radio show or in the very least, for a column article: "Former Lolita Found Tongueless After Meeting Sexy Biologist." How about it?"

"Sexy, eh?" Robert wiggled his eyebrows.

"Well, yeah, old crushes die hard, or so they say."

"Thank you," he replied, not without irony. "Pity you were half my age back then, though I have to concede that you are much more interesting now."

Lillian snorted inelegantly. "Damn, you really are lousy at math for a scientist. You were 22 and I was 16 - above the age of consent, mind you. That's a six year difference."

"Yeah, but at that age the differences seem so much bigger..."

"Oh c'mon, just admit it that you didn't want to face criminal charges and directing board pressure and all."

"That too, evidently..."

"I'm betting your cock thought differently..."

Robert chuckled. "Oh wow. Refreshing approach. But, yeah, you're right about that."

Lillian raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, c'mon, don't play innocent," Robert taunted. "It doesn't suit you."

"'Course it doesn't. But I am entitled to be surprised now and then, especially with raunchy talk from a former holy-holy-goody-two-shoes."

"Granted."

Lillian suddenly felt restless. She downed what was left of her cider in one impressive gulp and stood. "I'm staying with my parents and you're staying at a friend's. How about finding a nice hotel room?"

She was half impressed when, without the slightest hesitation, Robert raised his glass in a silent cheer, drank up his beer and stood up in less than five seconds.

"There's one opposite the gallery."

"Good man!" Lillian patted his chest, perhaps more forcefully than she had to and passed by him, letting a hand brush against his groin. She liked the low strangled sound he made.

Ten minutes later, she drummed her fingernails against a marble counter, watching the clerk completing a stupid form; five minutes later, she stood by Robert's side in a narrow elevator, trying to ignore an absurd, unwarranted insecurity. Taking a deep breath, she stepped out of the elevator and led the way as they navigated through the maze of halls in search of their room. Robert laid a warm hand on the small of her back, waiting for her to pluck the electronic card from her pocket and open the door. He pressed his chest against her back, deposited a kiss on the back of her head and pushed her into the room.

A shiver ran down her back, making her knees weak with desire. She turned and pushed Robert's coat off his shoulders, pressing him with a biting kiss to the closing door. He reached around her to work the zipper of her skirt; she was too busy with his pullover and t-shirt to help, but he was more than dexterous. Save for the briefest pause to pass the clothes over his head, his hands flew on her, expertly discarding her garments. She opened his jeans and pushed them down with the boxers in one go, kneeling in the process. Her necklace was caught in Robert's fingers and broke, scattering black beads all through the floor. He whispered an apology but she ignored it, her mouth more interested in swallowing him than in talking. His head hit the door with a dull thud as a shuddered sigh left his lips. He held her hair in a loose ponytail, and looked down at her taking him in, accepting the slight pump of his into her mouth. Before long, he tightened his grip on her head and gently pulled her back.

"Stop," he said, pulling her up and searching for her mouth with his. He turned them, pushing her against the door and pinning her into place.

They stared at each other in the dimness, panting. Again, it struck Lillian how handsome he'd become with the age, the dark blue eyes less naïve, almost dangerous, the sea wolf hair, the three day stubble... And the body... Her eyes drifted to his full lips, then to his pecs and biceps. He kissed her.

"Look at me," he ordered.

"I am."

"Into my eyes."

She did. "My... Are you trying to get me to fall for you?"

He smiled and pressed his lips to hers as he dipped his head to kiss her again. "I'm no fool..."

She could feel him, hard and wet from her mouth, pressing so hotly against her thighs.

"Condom?" she asked.

"In my wallet. Wait." Robert heeled off his shoes and his jeans, still rolled around his ankles and searched his pockets for his wallet. In no time he extracted the condom. Lillian grabbed it from his fingers and deftly rolled it on. Robert placed his hands on her hips, running his fingers up to her waistline and back down.

"Bed?" he asked.

"Overrated," Lillian challenged.

He grinned, grabbed her ass pulling her off her feet and entered her as she wrapped her legs around his hips, in one long thrust. The door protested. He continued moving in a lazier rhythm then Lillian had expected. The door was loose at the hinges and thumped each time louder against the doorjamb. Their eyes met and they started laughing.

"Beds are overrated, right?" Robert panted. "Doors aren't much better."

Lillian snorted. "The bed it is, then."

He carried her, stepping over the pile of clothing and laid her on the bed, toppling over her.

"You okay?"

Lillian nodded and pushed her hips against his. "You're strong. Not the gym type of strong. I like that," she breathed.

Robert kissed her and drew back. "Turn."

Lillian complied, positioning herself on all fours in front of him, moving her hips in clear invitation. Robert pulled her against him, entering again. He wrapped an arm around her torso, letting his hand cup her breasts, while the other crawled down, finding its way between her legs, his fingers moving in time with his thrusts. She threw her arms back, wrapping them around his neck, moaning when he kissed the tender skin.

Through the corner of her eye, Lillian saw them reflected on the mirror above the chest of drawers. She turned her head to better watch, meeting Robert's eyes in the glass. Him tanned and strong, her white and slim, her black hair falling between them, their movements perfectly timed to each other... Robert winked and she came, shutting her eyes to everything as the shudders coursed through her.

Robert slowed his pace, waiting for her to ride it out, then pressed her down until he laid over her, then spooned her.

"Christ," Lillian said, vaguely embarrassed for coming so soon.

"Want another one?" Robert purred in her ear, moving suggestively inside her.

"Oh, yes, Mr. Swindon, please," she replied in childish voice, taunting him. Robert nibbled on her shoulder. "I'll start working on it right away."

* * *

Several hours later, Lillian crawled out of Robert's arms, sated and exhausted. She showered, then searched for her discarded clothes. She tossed the pile on the bed by Robert's feet and started dressing, staring at him as provocatively as she could.

Robert watched with sleepy eyes, a smile dangling on his lips.

"You're in a hurry..."

Lillian laughed. "Yeah. Late for dinner."

"Daddy's waiting?" Robert teased.

"A friend."

"The male kind?"

"Possibly. But you do have a white line on your ring finger... something tells me that not too long ago there was something blocking the sun there."

"I'm divorcing."

Lillian nodded as she put on her shoes. "Right."

"I am. I wouldn't have slept with you if I still thought of myself as married."

"Aww... You really sound wounded. Anyway, it was a nice afternoon."

Robert dropped back to the pillows. "Nice, eh?" he chuckled.

"So I'm guessing you wouldn't want an encore tomorrow, being that it was only nice..."

Lillian stopped in her tracks.

"We're not talking romance here, are we? Because I seriously don't have the time or the patience."

Robert chuckled. "Don't worry. I'm not going to propose." He held out a hand and Lillian walked to him sitting by his side at the edge of the bed.

"Most guys aren't lucky enough to live out their fantasies you know?" he said, running a warm thumb up and down her wrist.

"Ah a fantasy... I _so_ like being that!" Lillian glared at Robert.

"You're better than my fantasy. A lot more interesting as a woman than as a girl and you _were_ pretty interesting even back then."

Lillian took a deep breath.

"Yeah, you're better than a fantasy too. I just don't see the point of another rendezvous."

"Great sex?"

Lillian laughed. "All right. My cell number is there," she said, extracting a business card from her handbag. "Call me after three."

Robert stretched. "After four - I have a meeting."

He gently pulled Lillian by the arm. "Come here."

They kissed, deeply but tenderly.

"Let's enjoy this while it lasts," he proposed.

Lillian kissed him again.

"See you tomorrow."

 

_Finis  
June 2008_


End file.
